


Red Hyacinths

by me_meron_pan



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: BF Smut Week, Banana Fish Smut Week 2019, M/M, Masturbation, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 00:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18021389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/me_meron_pan/pseuds/me_meron_pan
Summary: BF Smut Week Day 3: MasturbationMax had the terrible habit of leaving his dirty laundry on the floor and Ash would make the same mistake as usual.Picking it up for him.





	Red Hyacinths

**Author's Note:**

> Just one prompt for today because the other's weren't really up my ally!  
> I thought about something for Gun/Knife play and while I came up with a few good scenarios, I didn't feel like actually writing any of them.  
> So it's MaxAsh again!
> 
> Red Hyacinths are a symbol of playfulness.

Ash would often wake up on his own.

The spot next to him empty, long gone cold since Max had to leave early for work.

They got up at the same time on very rare occasions, most of Ash's university classes starting later in the day.

When they got up together however, Ash would be the first in the bathroom. Max would prepare breakfast partly until the other was done, switching places with him to get ready for work.

Ash needed some time in the bathroom, early mornings had never been his thing.

Often Max would see him struggle through drinking his coffee without spilling anything until he was properly awake.

 

There were also slower mornings. When there were no classes to get up for and Max decided to stay in bed a few extra minutes to stroke Ash's back while holding him for another moment.

At least until the journalist's alarm would ring for the fourth time to finally get him out of that warm comfort.

Ash always got a good laugh out of watching Max hurriedly getting dressed, tossing his nightwear onto the ground before vanishing behind the bathroom door.

 

Max would also never leave the flat without coming back into the bedroom at least once, pressing a kiss to Ash's head or forehead, whispering a soft ''Text me when you're up, can't wait to get back home.''

 

The blonde youth may not ever admit it, but he loved that gentle, loving side of Max. Soft and caring, trusting him was so very easy.

  
  


He rolled over once, one hand searching for his phone that must've gotten lost between their pillows. First thing he pulled out from under Max's pillow was one of his socks.

That old geezer somehow managed to leave those scattered everywhere. There was not a single place in their flat, where Ash wouldn't find one of his socks.

How did they always end up there?

 

He casted it to the side, taking a mental note to throw it into the laundry basket later on.

The second time he stuck his arms under them, he finally pulled his phone from underneath their pillows.

Tired eyes scanned the screen, some texts from his gang, one updated App.

 

**10:58.**

 

It still was way too early for his taste, despite going to sleep fairly soon.

Somehow Max had managed to drag him along into bed although Ash had planned on finishing some stuff for his lecture.

With university in mind, the blonde bothered to get out of bed, slowly making his way into the kitchen to get some coffee.

Nice enough to have left the coffee machine running, Max had also left him a small letter.

 

_ ''Milk is empty – sorry about that.'' _

 

Ash huffed in reaction, quickly discarding the piece of paper before leaving the kitchen once more. Tired legs carried him through the living room, eyes glancing over to the window front, lingering on the busy streets just beneath their apartment as a gentle rain tapped against the glass.

He remembered the socks he wanted to put away, going back to the bedroom as he started picking up their scattered pieces of clothes.

Three socks, one pair of nightpants from Max, one of his shirts and two more shorts.

Once stored in the laundry basket in the bathroom, Ash's eyes sticked to the door.

 

He remembered their first day in this place, the first morning waking up in their shared bed as if it was yesterday.

Max had snuck out of bed, not returning for several minutes. It was nothing that would worry Ash and yet, curiosity got the better of him.

He was about to knock at the door, asking if everything was alright when a certain sound almost made his ears perk up.

The blonde youth knew that sound. Probably better than anyone else.

A muffled moan, skilled ears could even pick up a name.

 

_ Aslan. _

 

Images of Max, his back pressed against the other side of the door as his hands had wandered into his pants, flashed up in Ash's mind. His strong back, arm muscles flexing as he touched himself, Ash's name on his lips.

What a delightful fantasy.

 

The blonde found himself back in the bathroom as the angry beeping sound of the coffee machine interrupted his memories.

Just as he was getting to the good part.

 

With his coffee mug in hand, Ash headed back to the bedroom once more to retrieve his phone. However, he spotted a familiar color peeking from under the bed.

 

''That stupid old man...''

 

He pulled another of the man's shirt out, angrily crumpling it up.

 

''Go do your laundry yourself!'' he called out for no one to hear.

 

Ash decided to just leave it be. One shirt wasn't worth the trip back to the bathroom again.

Placing his mug on the nightstand, he let himself fall back into those soft pillows but somehow Max's shirt wouldn't let him rest. His hand fished for the piece of clothing, picking it up once more.

It was that basic black shirt Max liked so much because it had the softest fabric.

Ash liked it too.

It looked good on Max and due to its size, was most comfortable to throw on when nothing else was in reach.

It even seemed a little too big on the other.

Ash's fingers got tangled in the fabric, soft cotton, heavenly light against his skin.

He pressed it up against his face, inhaling Max's scent which was woven into it. Closing his eyes, it was easy to imagine having the journalist right next to him.

Holding his shirt, hugging it tight, Ash closed his eyes. Letting the other's smell guide his fantasy as his hands began to wander.

Goosebumps on his skin, a gentle pinch on his nipple as he took another deep breath.

Ash loved it when Max would brush over his chest, a calloused thumb caressing one of his nipples before the man would lean down over him, kissing and biting away on that pale skin of his.

He'd feel his scratchy beard after three days of not shaving, leaving a pleasurable tickle behind.

Those memories alone sent a shudder down his back. Ash's legs twitched together a little as he dared to think about having Max between them.

How he'd caress his inner thighs, kissing and biting them as well. Teasing him in a mutter or saying some really cheesy things.

Another deep breath, nose full of Max's aftershave.

If it wasn't for his hand wandering between his legs, Ash wouldn't have noticed that his underwear was already stained with precum.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few pumps as his memories started rolling again.

 

_ ''You like it that way, don't you?'' _

 

_ Max hugged him from behind, strong arms wrapped around him, coming together at his front to wrap one hand around his pulsing length. _

_ Those strong arms, Ash could melt into them. _

_ He felt so small in Max's presence, warm and protected. _

_ It was simple to let go. _

 

Moans filled the empty bedroom, muffled by the journalist's cotton shirt.

 

''M-Max...'' Ash mewled as the tension in his lower abdomen rose.

 

Each pump of his hand made it stronger, the need to let go almost irresistible.

Not yet.

Ash loved to edge himself, face flushed red as he forced himself to interrupt those thoughts about the other.

He dragged this play out as long as possible, allowing himself to climax only minutes later.

His body quaked, hips bucking up as he let out his loudest moan.

One hand still stroking his cock, the other clawed at the shirt.

He might as well give the shirt a real reason to get washed, quickly putting it on as he didn't mind the splatters of his own cum on his chest.

'Max' would take care of them.

 

Satisfied and tired again, Ash rolled over, his hand reaching for his phone. The screen read '1 New Message' , a green light flashing to symbolize it was a message of said journalist.

  
  


>> You up yet? <<

 

>> Does my 'online' status look like I am up? <<

 

>> Good morning to you too, Ash. <<

 

A small chuckle came over his lips, rolling his eyes.

 

>> Go back to work, old man. <<

 

>> Just wanted to check up on you. <<

 

>> I am fine. <<

 

>> Are you sure? <<

 

Ash decided to send him a picture, a cunning smile, posing with his mug as he was all comfortable in bed.

  
  


_ >> You're wearing my shirt. That's cute. << _

 


End file.
